


Take a Drunk Girl Home

by amandateaches



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Dean, F/M, Minor Swearing, Protective Dean, Soft Dean, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21664195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandateaches/pseuds/amandateaches
Summary: Dean’s night out the bar gets a little more interesting when he runs into a girl who might need a little saving.Dean’s night out the bar gets a little more interesting when he runs into a girl who might need a little saving.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & You, Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	Take a Drunk Girl Home

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Bed Sharing for @spnfluffbingo2019, @spngenrebingo, and @spndeanbingo. This is a little bit of an unconventional way to fill this square, but I am so very much in love with it. I hope you are too. It’s based off the song Drunk Girl by Chris Janson, and there are lyrics interspersed throughout.

Dean was sitting at the bar, his elbows resting on the warped plywood, his head in his hands. As he nursed his third beer of the night, he felt like something shifted in the air around him, and he glanced up. His eyes drifted across the room before falling on her, a small smile finding its way to his face.

She was gorgeous, that was for sure, but that wasn’t what drew his attention. It was the way she moved, dancing with her eyes closed like she was the only one in the room. She was bouncing like a pinball, singing along to every song. All the words were wrong, but she kept singing, bopping around the room without a care in the world.

He took in her hair, a perfect mess, and her little-too-tight dress, and he realized what he was looking at. Either a bachelorette or coming off a breakup. His eyes drifted to her hand, taking in the large number of cover charge stamps decorating it and he sighed, putting two and two together.

“Definitely a break-up,” he muttered, confirming his suspicions by scanning the bar and finding a noticeable lack of friends around her. He kept his eyes on her as he took another swig of beer, watching as she continued to twirl around the room, stumbling around on her high heels. She nearly fell once, and he jumped up, ready to intervene, but she caught herself, staggering back to grab her drink off the table.

She downed it in one gulp and then closed her eyes again, throwing out her arms and spinning in a circle. Dean chuckled and turned to the bartender. “Hey, Joe, you know that girl over there?”

Joe followed the path of his pointed finger and shook his head. “Naw, but I know she’s had a lot to drink. I’m gonna have to call her a cab.”

“Don’t bother,” Dean said with a smile, slamming a twenty down on the bar as he stood up. “I got it.”

“You sure?” Joe questioned, raising his eyebrows.

Dean nodded, already halfway to the dance floor. “Yeah, I’ll make sure she gets home safely.”

He turned his head, focusing his full attention on the beautiful woman still swaying drunkenly in front of him. To his left, he could see a tall man with a preppy, little skinny tie heading her way, and he threw him a hard glare, cutting him off at the pass. Within a few more long-legged steps, he was by her side, but he hesitated, placing his hand out as if she was coaxing an easily-spooked deer. “Um, hey…”

She whirled around like a whip, her eyes flying open and meeting his, wild irises, clouded over from the alcohol, struggling to focus. “Wh…at are you?” she stammered, her speech slurring slightly as she blinked a few times, squinting her eyes. “A male model or sometin’?”

He couldn’t help but laugh as he shook his head to correct her. “No, just a guy. I came over here because wanted to make sure you…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she screamed, her voice rising far above the music, her hands flying out in front of her. “Who moved the floor?”

“Okay then…” Dean sighed, reaching out to grip her elbow, steadying her. “Can I call someone for you? A friend or boyfriend…”

“Boyfriend!” she snorted, brushing his hand away and doubling over with laughter. “Ha! Not a chance, not after what he did. He wishes!”

“Um, okay…” Dean whispered, watching as her face fell, sadness washing over her. “Maybe someone else?”

She shook her head, straightening her shoulders resolutely. “No. ‘Sides, I don’t need a knight in shining farmer.” She spun back around, throwing her head back and her hands up into the air. “I’m perpect…perbect…perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Sure you are,” Dean said with an indulging smile. “But, just the same, maybe we should…”

Before he could finish, she spun around once more, coming to a stop with a whispered “whoa”. She made eye contact with him for the briefest of seconds, her eyes rolling from side to side. “I, uh, I don’ think I feel so good.” And, with just enough warning for him to reach out his arms to catch her, her eyes drifted shut, and she collapsed into his arms.

“Great,” Dean groaned, lifting her up with ease and gently settling her over his shoulder. “Why do they always gotta pass out?”

-

Thirty minutes, and a quick check of her wallet, later, Dean was standing outside of Y/N’s door, cradling her still sleeping form in his arms. He adjusted her slightly, pausing as she softly groaned, before he used her key to unlock the door, pushing it open with his foot.

He protected her head with his hand as he stepped inside, making sure to turn carefully with her in his arms before closing the door. He moved quietly down the small entryway, his eyes quickly adjusting to the shadowed darkness.

He quickly established that the first door he stopped at was a bathroom, so he kept walking, moving towards the door at the end of the hall. When he passed the threshold, he aimed straight for the well-made, inviting bed, placing her down on it gently. She stirred a little before curling in on herself, her eyes remaining closed.

He smiled, stopping just to watch her for a moment, her chest rising and falling steadily. Her hair had fallen in front of her eyes, and, without even thinking, he reached down and brushed it away, his breath catching as he realized what he was doing. He closed his eyes, shaking his head ever so slightly, and straightened back up, turning towards the door.

“Wait…”

The voice was whisper soft, and he almost didn’t hear it, but he did, stopping mid-step. He spun back around to find her sitting up, staring at him. “You brought me home.”

It was almost more of a question than a statement, so he nodded his head. “I wanted to make sure you got here okay.”

“And, now, you’re leaving?”

The vulnerability in her voice shocked him to his core, and, as his eyes connected with hers, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. “I, uh, I guess I could stay for a bit.”

He moved slowly to the other side of the bed, much more hesitantly than before, and sat down gingerly on the edge. Without warning, her fingers lightly touched the base of his shoulder blade, and he felt like he’d been burned, quickly jumping back up and stepping away from the bed.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, moving until she was sitting on her knees, staring after him.

He paced around for a few seconds, raking his hands through his hair. “I should go. You need to sleep, and we barely know each other…”

“Don’t you want me?”

His head whipped around to meet hers, his heart falling at the broken expression on her face. Damn, he wanted to kill her ex for making her look like that. 

He took a deep breath and walked towards her, sitting down on the bed next to her and gently resting his hand on her cheek. She leaned into it almost instinctively, shutting her eyes and breathing him in. “Y/N,” he whispered, his voice as soft as the wind. “You’ve had a lot to drink. As much as I want to stay, and, God, do I want to, I can’t. It wouldn’t be right.”

She opened her eyes, and he inhaled sharply at the tears he saw reflected in them. “I know you don’t believe it right now, but nothing good would come from me staying here tonight. You deserve a whole hell of a lot better than some drunken one night stand, Y/N.”

He leaned in and placed a feather-light kiss to her forehead, gently laying her down as he did, until her head hit the pillow beneath her. He sat back up and grabbed the blanket next to him, carefully placing it on top of her and smiling as he watched her close her eyes and snuggle into it. Standing up, he, once again, made his way to the doorway.

“Hey, knight in shining armor?”

His grin widened, and he paused, his hand on the doorknob. “Yeah?”

“Thank you for saving me.”

“You’re welcome,” he answered quietly, looking back at her one last time and drinking her in before he closed the door behind him and walked back down the hallway.

He took her keys out of his pocket and placed them on the counter by the front door. His hand lingered as he thought of the way she’d looked at him, the way her hand had felt against him. He may have picked up the life she threw on the floor, but she’d done a hell of a lot more for him.

On the spur of the moment, he took an old receipt out of his pocket, smoothing out the crumpled paper and grabbing a nearby pen. He scrawled his name and number on it and left it by the phone, turning to go before he could second guess himself. Leaving the hall lights on, he walked out and locked the door, the slip of paper he’d left behind staying as a last sign of hope.

-

The next morning, he groaned as he rolled out of bed, smoothing over his tousled hair and making his way into the bunker’s cold kitchen. Sam must’ve already been up and out, because there was a pre-made pot of coffee waiting for him. He smiled and grabbed it, pouring a cup. Looking over at the phone he’d left on the table last night, he raised his eyebrow when he noticed it was blinking. Grabbing it, he pressed play on the message, grinning even wider when he realized who it was from.

“Hey…I, um, I wanted to thank you for last night. You went above and beyond the random-guy-at-a-bar call of duty, and I will forever be grateful. I’ve been, uh, going through a rough time lately, as I’m sure you noticed, and I think you were exactly what I needed last night….Dean.” She paused, but he could hear the smile in her voice as she said his name. “I figured I’d go out last night and meet some boys who could take my mind off it, but you showed me the difference between a boy and a man. Thank you for being a man.” Another pause, this time a little longer. “Um…if you’re up to it, I’d really love to buy you a drink to show you how much it meant to me. Maybe something non-alcoholic this time,” she laughed. “Coffee? Let me know.”

He didn’t even let the message finish before he was redialing her number, his own cup of coffee long forgotten on the counter. He smiled into the phone as he waited for her to pick up, imagining the sound of her voice on the other end. 

He wasn’t sure what exactly would come from this, but he knew one thing: he’d never been so damn grateful to take a drunk girl home.


End file.
